


Damn you, Dick III

by sourwolphs



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Blind Date, F/M, Gansey being Gansey, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5154050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourwolphs/pseuds/sourwolphs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Gansey plays matchmaker, and Adam is an oblivious idiot. </p>
<p>Or, the one where Gansey sets Adam up on a blind date to make him realize his feelings for Ronan Lynch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damn you, Dick III

**Author's Note:**

> These characters belong to Maggie Stiefvater. 
> 
> **Catch me on tumblr at[cabeswter](http://www.cabeswter.tumblr.com).**

Adam had never been on a blind date. He didn’t think he’d ever been on a “date” in general. But Gansey had insisted, “ _Adam, when’s the last time you did something other than Calculus on the weekend?”_ Now, that was a question he honestly couldn’t answer. After days of his relentless nagging, Adam finally gave in.

He didn’t really know _why_ Gansey wanted to set him up so badly in the first place. Sure, things hadn’t worked out with Blue, but it wasn’t the end of the world. It’s not like Adam really had much _time_ to date anyway. He didn’t ever have time for things typical kids did—not with three jobs and a pesky magical contract with a sentient forest.

The day of, Adam stood in front of his dingy bathroom mirror, fiddling with the collar of his button-down in an attempt to achieve that rumpled-yet-regal look Gansey seemed to possess without a bit of effort. Even after tucking and un-tucking his collar a million times, he still looked like he was trying desperately to look like someone he was not. He heaved a sigh and turned away, passing a final sweep through his dusty brown hair.

Maybe she’d know he was trailer trash just from the toughness of his skin, the sun-bleached freckles on his face, the slight crook to his nose. His father had broken it twice, such a contrast to the straight, Anglo-Saxon line of Gansey’s profile.

He didn’t want to pick her up in the Hondayota—in fact, he couldn’t imagine making a worse first impression, so he’d asked Gansey to have her meet him at the restaurant. It was a middle-priced bistro in the heart of downtown Henrietta, surrounded by a modest collection of antique shops and small town bakeries. He parked the car around the block, hid the rusty key in the front pocket of his thrift-store khakis, and made his way under the cheery blue awning of Blue Bird café.

Gansey had said her name was Zoë. He’d expected a royal blonde in a tailored skirt; skin the color of milk from long days spent tucked away from physical labor. Instead, he was met with a tall, strong brunette—all wide eyes, dark eyelashes, and thin lips.

She seemed completely unfazed by Adam’s awkward introduction and made no comment when he bypassed the lunch menu and ordered a cheap drip coffee. They made small talk for a while, and Adam learned that she attended high school in the suburbs just outside of Henrietta—slightly wealthier than Mountain View, Adam’s old district school, but not by much.

They talked about school. Only. He brought up the literature the Aglionby boys were reading as a part of their Romanticism course, and she countered, in her quick words and heavy tone, with the argumentative texts they were studying in composition. Her sharp, knife-like smile, the glint in her eyes—it reminded him of something, some _one_. He felt his attention drifting—daydreaming—of ravens wings and harsh cheekbones.

She didn’t pause the largely one-sided conversation until their server brought her a spinach and roast beef sandwich. She brought it to her mouth with narrowed eyes at Adam’s drifting expression.

“So you’re friends with Gansey?”

Adam, quick to come back to himself, nodded. “Since I switched to Aglionby, yes. How’d you two meet?”

“Through Ronan Lynch, actually,” she paused; indulging in a laugh at some inside joke he clearly wasn’t a part of. His chest tightened, strangely. “You know him?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I—He’s one of my, uh…friends. He’s one of my friends.” It hit Adam that he really didn’t know how to define what Ronan was to him. Not brothers, or best friends even—but inexplicably close regardless. They shared a discreet understanding of each other, a quiet bond—different from the one he shared with Gansey, but just as significant.

“Is he?” She took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. It didn’t sound like a question she expected an answer to.  

All of the sudden, Adam was nervous. He could no longer read the look in the line of her eyebrows—something inquisitive, a tangible expression of the cogs in her mind turning.

She spoke again, a minute later, her eyes flitting up to narrow right at him. “You’re not interested in me much, are you?”

Caught off guard, he hunched his shoulders, placing his hands in a placating manner on the veneer tabletop, something he’d observed Gansey do a thousand times. “Well, I—“

Her mouth teased up into a smile and she set her sandwich down, brushing off the crumbs on her dark jeans. “Relax, Adam. I’m not offended. I’ve been in love with the same person for the past two years.”  

Adam frowned at that. “Then why…?” He gestured between them, suggesting the date, the food, the stilted conversation. He’d thought she was at least a _little_ interested, no matter how much he’d drifted off during the conversation.

She completely ignored his question. “And I think you’ve got someone else too.”

“What makes you think that?” Adam deadpanned, for lack of a better tone. This was encroaching on unfamiliar territory. He could feel the last semblances of control slipping out of his fingertips like sand.

“Well to start, you haven’t asked me a single question outside of what I’m doing in school.” Adam’s cheeks grew hot under her scrutiny.

“I—"

“No, shut up. It’s okay. Listen. I don’t think Gansey really wanted us to get together.” Adam quirked an eyebrow, genuinely confused. Zoë was peering at something over Adam’s shoulder, on the sidewalk out the windows of the shop front. She smiled slyly. “Why, Adam Parrish, I think we’ve been set up.”

Steadily approaching were three boys—one with a genial arm thrown around another, chattering animatedly, gesticulating wildly. The third in a dusty leather jacket, kicking at rocks with his boots, a perpetual scowl on his face. It was Gansey and Ronan. The boy under Gansey’s arm was unfamiliar—tan, with a mop of dusty waves, sun-bleached skin, and wiry muscles. Familiar in the way someone with the same hometown roots is.

The three boys paused on the street corner, Gansey still prattling madly in the ear of the boy who looked overwhelmed and slightly uncomfortable. The stranger looked up, and when he made eye contact with Zoë, a brilliant blush bloomed over his cheekbones—the same flush mirroring in hers.

Then the stranger’s eyes tracked to Adam, the table and the café, and his eyebrows lowered, smile slipping away dejectedly. Gansey looked up, making eye contact with Adam. He had a small, devious twinkle in his eyes. _Damn you, Gansey_ , Adam thought. _Why was he here?_

“I think I know exactly which one’s yours,” said Zoë, interrupting Adam’s thoughts. He turned to face her, and she leaned back smugly in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.  

Adam felt his gut twist. Who did she think she was, passing some kind of judgment on who he was or wasn’t interested in? But he could see the fond look in her eyes as she slyly peered out at the boys just down the block. Then all at once, he understood.

Zoë’s fierce personality, her sharp, smirking mouth, her piercing blue eyes. The tattoo curling around her inner arm. And the unfamiliar boy outside—his deeply tanned skin, the freckles dotting the bridge of his nose, his long, lanky arms. Zoë, leering: _Why, Adam Parrish, I think we’ve been set up._

Gansey was a meddling fool. But a brilliant, diabolical one, nonetheless. _Damn you, Dick III_.

And all at once, Adam started to laugh. He doubled over the table and clutched one hand to his stomach as he heaved in great gulps of air. Zoë laughed a bit nervously at first as she took in Adam’s apparent hysterical outburst. Soon, she too was laughing, burying her face in her hands as her shoulders shook with the force of her inhalations.

When the laughing died out, Adam stood. “Ready to go?” Zoë smiled and joined arms with him as they stepped neatly out onto the sidewalk, looking indignant and as oblivious as they could muster.

“Adam! Zoë!” Gansey exclaimed, the picture of innocence, smiling with the grace of a politician hedging a scandal. She replied with a warm smile, then turned to the new boy.

“Eric,” said Zoë, “I’d like you to meet my friend, Adam.” They shook hands, nodding and smiling politely, and Zoë moved to stand by Eric’s side. “You wanna get out of here?” Eric paused, looking a bit dumbfounded under the intensity of Zoë’s gaze, then quickly began to nod in thrilled agreement. Zoë clapped a hand on Gansey’s shoulder with a knowing, grateful look. With a quick goodbye and _good luck_ under her breath to Adam, she took Eric’s hand, heading down the sidewalk with a new spring in her step.

“Well, boys, I have a book on hold!” Gansey spun on his heels, jaywalked across the street (with a furtive glance for oncoming traffic), and took off towards Henrietta Public Library, conveniently a block away.

Ronan had been noticeably ignoring the brief exchange, standing off to the side and rolling a rock disinterestedly under the toe of his boot. He did his smoker’s breath, eyes glancing up to catch Adam’s on the exhale.

Adam held back a surprised sound at the barely disguised hurt in Ronan’s eyes. “How was your date, Parrish?” His voice didn’t do much to mask the bitterness in his tone.

Adam was a goddamn idiot.

“Terrible.”

Ronan looked up with a puzzled look, lips forming around a response but coming up short. Adam stumbled forward, flung an arm around Ronan’s neck, and pressed their lips together in a demanding kiss. It was abrupt, a harsh clash of mouths, a bumping of teeth.

Ronan pulled back, startled, and pulled his hands out of pockets to grip Adam’s arms. “What are you—“

“Ronan Lynch, do you want to go out with me?” He spit out, breathless. Ronan grinned savagely, fit a hand around the back of Adam’s neck, and captured his lips with his own. They smiled against each other—foolish, joyous.

 

\+ + +

 

Three hours later, Ronan and Adam are tangled on the couch at Monmouth, Chainsaw hopping excitedly back and forth between their laps to nibble their fingers. Gansey is sprawled on his bed, regal even in the most lackadaisical posture, like a king dozing in his luxurious domain. His glasses perch studiously on his nose as he devours his newest book on the folkloric symbolism of contemporary Welsh poetry.

“Gansey?” He closed the book and pushed his wire-frames up to gaze more attentively at Adam. “How do you know Zoë?”

Gansey smiled in response, still devilishly proud of his matchmaking antics. “She used to keep score times during rowing tournaments. Her uncle works in Aglionby administration.” Ronan glowered, snaking a warm arm around Adam’s waist.

Adam nodded, focusing again on Chainsaw who was excitedly ruffling her inky black feathers at his attentions.

Noah, who’d materialized quietly on the wide, industrial windowsill, laughed. “She and Ronan almost got in a fist fight when they first met because they looked at each other the wrong way.” Adam smiled fondly. Ronan’s glower deepened.

Noah and Gansey exchanged a triumphant high-five, making Adam scoff. “You were in on it too, Noah?”

Noah laughed dimly, his aura weakening with the force of his giggles. In a moment, he was gone. Gansey got back to his book, and Ronan continued to stroke Chainsaw’s chin until she shut her eyes and bundled into the pocket of his hoodie. Adam drifted off into the curve of Ronan’s shoulder.

Everything was how it had always been. Except now, Ronan could press a soft, worshipful kiss to Adam’s temple as he slept.


End file.
